I always knew that the best rucaparib had to offer was a window. I'm grateful it has given me one - but we now have the first signs that the window may be closing.
As I've written before, my consultant tracks the progress of the cancer by measuring a blood protein called CA125 that goes up and down as the cancer waxes and wanes. It is a funny protein that can rise in response to other stresses to do with the menstrual cycle or inflammation or other gynae conditions and it is not always a good marker for the cancer. But in me, it has been. So it's been exciting watching it come down cycle by cycle to 22 at the beginning of April. Normal is below 35. Hurray!
But it is on the rise. My most recent results show that by the end of May, it hit 45. Not a massive number in itself but doubled from two months previously. So there are three scenarios. 1. It's a blip. Neither my consultant nor I believe that as there is nothing to explain a blip. 2. The drug is starting to fail (or the cancer is starting to become resistant) and an increase in dose will knock it on the head. 3. The cancer is becoming resistant and won't respond to a higher dose. We are pinning our hopes on scenario two and I started on a higher dose (600mg twice a day compared to 480) about three weeks ago. Dr K warned me I would feel bad again but it's not been too awful. Some fatigue, nausea and diarrhoea and that disgusting taste in my mouth again but nothing unmanageable.
I was up at the hospital yesterday and had more bloods and will be having a scan in the next couple of weeks or so and then we will know more. Meanwhile, Dr K is going to request micro satellite testing which will indicate whether I might respond to immunotherapy. It's unlikely, she says, as it is not a typical profile in high grade serous carcinomas but I have not been typical in any other respects so why start now?
It's tempting to sink into the slough of despond and I did do that when I first heard the news about the CA125. But with the help of my ever loving husband, the peeps over at living with incurables and some deep thinking I've come to the conclusion that, whatever happens, I am in a better position now than I was a year ago. I'm still not experiencing any symptoms from the cancer, the kids are a year older, my husband has taken on two new vet practices and is beginning to stabilise the teams so will be able to take his foot off the gas a bit soon and stop working 16 hour days, seven days a week. Maybe. The sun is shining and we have a summer holiday in Greece planned.
My consultant's parting words yesterday after saying she was pretty confident we will see some results from the increased dose were "I'll let you know if it's al going tits up". So one question: how do I wait for the phone not to ring without completely losing my mind? Sometimes I wonder...
